You know how someone says something that can have multiple interpretations? Such is the case with Cali Swing District’s “Teach Me How to Dougie.” I’m an expert in how to Dougie – I’ve been doing one for years. Still, I’m pretty sure that’s not what they mean. Besides, he’s mine. I’m the only one who needs his operating manual.
Tag: Bestest
Making Something out of Nothing
Last night, we let the newly-minted 12-year-old watch the movie version of Rent with us. She’s been begging us to let her watch it for a while now. Given that it’s rated PG-13 and she’s a very mature 12, we finally gave in.
She’s seen clips from the movie on YouTube (I’m just a little bit of a Renthead) and she’s heard both the movie soundtrack and Original Broadway Cast recordings, so her father and I wondered what questions, if any, she might have about the movie. It turns out there were only a few. She asked what masturbation was – clearly a parenting and Family Life Education failure. She wanted to clarify that Maureen is indeed Bisexual. She asked what a Drag Queen was. She also wondered if New York was really that depressing looking in the 80s.
The New York question was easy – I grew up an hour from The City and went there many times during the 80s. It really was that ugly. I remember going into Bryant Park once. It was a barren, scary place. These days it is a lovely park. Times Square has been thoroughly Disney-fied (another term I had to define for her). NYC is a far different place now than the time the movie was set in.
Defining a Drag Queen was easy with Angel on the screen. Maureen’s bisexuality was similarly easy to confirm. An explanation wasn’t required – The Eldest already knows about sexual preferences.
Oddly, one thing I tried to clarify, but was rebuffed with a “yeah, I know that,” was the drug use. I suspect Discovery Health is to thank for that. Masturbation proved a bit more complicated, but she and I got through that one just fine. Fathers aren’t usually consulted where little girls’ bodily functions are concerned. I did make sure to tell her that not only could Daddy be trusted to understand if she ever needed to talk to him, but that there are many other females in her life that she can trust.
All of this is on my mind not only because we just watched it last night, but because there is apparently a big uproar over the introduction of an openly gay character on Glee, and the increased emphasis on the fact that there are other gay characters on the show. Apparently it was fine to have a gay character on the show as long as he wasn’t shown doing gay things. How very Catholic Church of these people.
Why in the world would people object to two gay guys kissing, yet be perfectly ok with their little darlings watching all of the other hyper-sexual behaviors on the show. Teen pregnancy, premature ejaculation, all kind of sex – that just fine. Gay kissing? Oh noes, my child will be scarred by the homosexual agenda.
Give me a break. The only reason the kid will be affected at all is that you are against it. They don’t care – or wouldn’t, if you hadn’t conditioned them into thinking that following their heart, mind, and soul was wrong. Why should there be a “homosexual agenda”? Why isn’t this viewed as just another kiss? Because some people make it into a big deal, that’s why.
We’ve never made a big deal about sexuality – it just exists, like any other thing about a person. Hair color, eye color, sexual preference – these are all things we can choose to mask but don’t truly change. You can wear blue contacts but underneath you still have brown eyes. I can dye my hair as often as I’d like but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m going gray. My hair is turning gray waaaaay to fast for my liking, but there it is and it keeps coming. It’s just like homosexuality – people can try to ignore it, ban it, hide it, protest it, but it’s still there. It won’t go away. Someone won’t magically turn straight because you want them to be anymore than someone is going to turn gay just because they saw two guys kissing on tv.
The absurdity of it all leaves me shaking my head. I’m glad we’re not dealing with that sort of nonsense in our house. If we had, we would’ve missed out on this gem of a movie (yeah, yeah, not as good as the play , but way more accessible).
Spread Sunshine All Over The Place
As I mentioned the other day, I’ve been watching the relationship of two people close to me further disintegrate. There’s really few things worse than watching someone suffer and not knowing how to fix it. The bottom line is that they’re both miserable people. I can’t fix that – it was to come from inside. So, instead of fussing constantly over the state of their marriage, I’ve decided to try to make sure that my marriage is and will remain on solid ground.
In the spirit of that goal, I asked my Bestest what I could do to improve myself and make me a more likable person. His answer – cheer up and stop worrying so much about other people’s troubles. Do what you can but then know when to let go. Easy for him to say. He’s the laid back one. I’m hyper. But it’s a worthwhile goal. Even the eldest says “don’t read that!” when she sees me looking at an email from one of the aggrieved parties. She knows it upsets me. How is my behavior affecting her?
Numerous studies have shown that maintaining a positive attitude can help you lead a longer life. There are days when I’m not sure a longer life is what I’m after. But it’s not just me I need to think about anymore. I need to stand up, be strong, and put on a little good-mood music. It doesn’t get much better than “Put on a Happy Face” from the Broadway musical “Bye Bye Birdie.”
Gray skies are going to clear up, right? Right?
Help Me Understand
Yesterday, I was synching my iPhone with my iTunes account when I got a notification asking me to confirm that my Notes had changed and did I want to synch them? Well, sure, but what note? I’ve been on some fun post-knee surgery painkillers the last few days so not remembering writing a note wasn’t exactly out of the question. I decided to check anyway. The note? Not written by me.
“I just love you, do you know that? You’re amazing.”
Love on a notepad, digital no less. I cannot for the life of me imagine what I did to deserve having my Bestest in my life. Just the other day, he caught me frowning at my reflection in the mirror. He stopped, smiled at me, and said “I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You’re gorgeous.”
I am amazed, AMAZED, that someone loves me the way he does. I am not so amazed that I love him so much. How could I not? Paul McCartney said it well in his song, “Maybe I’m Amazed.”
No Words Exchanged
She thinks, we look at each other
Wondering what the other is thinking
But we never say a thing
These crimes between us grow deeper
Today’s earworm comes courtesy of my Bestest, who put lyrics from Dave Matthews Band’s “Ants Marching” in his Facebook Status this morning. While “the week ends, the week begins” is probably appropriate for going back to work after a long weekend, the song is now stuck in my head. Thanks for that.
The rest of the song resonates for different reasons. I just finished an intriguing book that talks, among other things, about not communicating effectively with others. In “The Four Agreements”, author Don Miguel Ruiz advocates not making assumptions about what someone else is thinking. Talk about it. What an easy yet complicated solution to so many of life’s problems.
Right now I’m watching a relationship between two people further disintegrate. So many of their problems are caused by not communicating effectively. And yet, I don’t think that I could ever get them to the point of just sitting down together and talking. They go through this cycle over and over. It’s nothing new. Somehow, the love in their relationship triumphs and they stay together. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part and what they really do is just settle. The crisis passes and they go back to their old ways. There’s no joy in watching this process.
So I’ve resolved that things will be different for my kids. They’ll understand that sometimes my husband, their father, my Bestest friend, and I argue. We have differences of opinion. We do things differently. We see things differently. They’ll see also that we discuss these things so that we understand each other. They’ll know that we respect each other’s right to have different opinions, different thoughts, different feelings. They’ll know that You are not Me (but that’s another song for another day).
I can’t fix my parents’ relationship. That’s not for me to do – it’s up to them. What I can do is love them both equally. I can’t choose sides. I shouldn’t have to. I can, however, honor what they’ve taught me about life and ensure that my kids grow up in a better world than I did. “We all do it the same way” – but I don’t have to. I choose to live a life of joy.